


Angels We Have Heard on High

by Asterne_In_a_Sky, MidoriKurenaiYume



Series: Winter Wonderland [1]
Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Dialogue, Drama, F/M, Pegasus!Gilgamesh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-17 13:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16517669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asterne_In_a_Sky/pseuds/Asterne_In_a_Sky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriKurenaiYume/pseuds/MidoriKurenaiYume
Summary: A strange, winged horse causing trouble in town makes Arturia decide to follow it.





	Angels We Have Heard on High

**Author's Note:**

> Last year, we would have liked to write a series of winter/Christmas stories to post every three-four days until Christmas, but we didn't have the time to do it. This year, we managed to write them, so we have now a dozen unrelated one-shots to post. They each have a theme, but they are only _inspired_ by it, not necessarily related to Christmas itself.
> 
> This specific story is inspired by two Barbie movies, The Magic of Pegasus and Swan Lake.  
> ([here](https://agilartlogbook.tumblr.com/post/180106271085/angels-we-have-heard-on-high) on tumblr)
> 
>  **Asterne_In_a_Sky** : The Barbie Princess series have always been part of my favorite videos in my childhood, and being a sucker for horses I HAD to have a story about them :) Hope this will be an interesting read for you guys too. 
> 
> **MidoriKurenaiYume** : Due to a lot of personal reasons, for the past three years I have avoided celebrating Christmas, having fallen out of love with it. Now I'm more or less trying to get back its spirit by writing these stories. Hope you'll enjoy :))  
>  
> 
> Title: from a Christmas song we both love (and Kalafina sang it live too :P).  
> THEME: curiosity/adventure.

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When going through the marketplace, Arturia was one day faced with a rather unusual sight.

The city’s soldiers were armed with sticks and were surrounding a huge horse, attempting to trap it and ultimately capture it.

What immediately caught her attention was however the horse’s uncommon sunlight coloured coat, its thick, tangled mane and its burning blood red eyes. It would have made quite the terrifying sight even without its large wings, which were acting as both a protection and attack system around it. They swung like lightweight shields, pushing away the sticks the soldiers hurled forward. A rich, terrifying sound rang from its nose as it reared and stomped the pavement with its hooves.

Most people in the square started screaming at the ‘infernal creature’ and fled as fast as they could. Arturia did not intend to follow their example, much less after noticing that one of the horse’s wings was now showing a strange angle, telling her that it must have suffered a wound.

She couldn’t help giving a distrusting glance in the soldiers’ direction. They had injured the horse and were attempting to capture or kill it; it was only natural for it to defend itself. In this situation, the victim was the poor winged horse, not the humans surrounding it.

In that instant, the horse let out a mighty neigh and opened its wings wide, beating and throwing off what remained of its assailants and freeing itself a path that would take it back into the woods. With another neigh, it took off down the now empty road, shaking its mane with surprising elegance and galloping fast away from the town that had tried to trap it.

Without thinking, Arturia immediately broke into a run, hurrying in the same direction. She had not missed how it had easily managed to take care of the soldiers, but she had also noticed that it had chosen not to fly away, which revealed that the wing injury it had suffered had to be rather severe. She knew from experience that the forest wasn’t a safe place, and no matter how mighty it had just proven to be, the creature was quite seriously wounded.

The horse still had what remained of a rope around its neck, but it did not seem to care as it sprinted into the woods, with Arturia following as quickly as she could, now beginning to think that perhaps she should have been slightly more careful. She was familiar with the forest, but not with the entirety of it; she had never gone deep enough to risk getting lost.

The unusual horse, even in its haste to leave town, seemed instead to know exactly where it was going, and she decided to just follow, more or less throwing caution to the wind. She did not know herself why she was feeling such a strong pull towards that mysterious animal, but as she had made her decision, she didn’t waste any time pondering over it.

 

It wasn’t long before she realized that the horse was slowing down. It wasn’t because it was close to its destination, but obviously because the ropes kept getting stuck in trees as the forest thickened. Arturia felt slightly concerned now; she had seen that the horse was very much able to look after itself, but it was very likely going to need an external intervention to avoid any further damage to happen.

As if on cue, a piece of the rope got stuck in a bush in that exact moment, tightening and clearly digging into the already wounded wing. The hiss that left the horse was incredibly audible even from where she was, and she slowed her pace a little as she approached it, trying not to breathe too loudly in order not to scare it off, to ensure that it wouldn’t try to pull harder on the rope, since it was already doing enough damage as it was.

As she cautiously came closer, she had leisure to observe the winged creature. Its blood red eyes were flashing with frustration and anger, muscles straining in an effort to break free from its temporary prison, hooves pawing at the earth, and she could see the copious amount of blood staining the inner side of the trapped wing.

But what truly took her aback was hearing the unexpected and very much _non-horse-like_ sounds that seemed to come from its mouth.

 

“Those… _pathetic_ … mongrels,” it growled darkly, in a distinctly male voice, hooves beating the ground in clear anger.

Arturia couldn’t stop herself.

“You can talk?” she blurted out, taking a couple of steps forward.

The horse’s eyes abruptly turned to look at her and became slits. It didn’t seem overly surprised to see her, but it certainly wasn’t happy about it. It immediately increased its efforts to get free, but that only made Arturia take another hurried step closer.

That also allowed her to get a better look at the bush where the rope had gotten stuck.

“Don’t do that! Stop struggling! That bush is poisonous!”

The horse abruptly stopped moving and, again without thinking, Arturia rushed forward.

“The rope seems to be stuck in the thorns,” she explained quickly. “And those are deadly.”

Even though the horse had stopped struggling, the look it gave her was both unimpressed and skeptical.

Realizing from its snort that it didn’t believe her and that it was clearly about to start pulling again, Arturia pushed aside a few branches, showing it the big thorns hidden underneath. They were all black, contrasting with the dark brown of the rest of the bush, giving away the fact that they did indeed contain poison.

Knowing instinctively that the distrusting horse wasn’t going to listen for long, Arturia instantly took out her dagger and, before it could once again react in a violent way, she neatly cut off the rope from the bush, ensuring that none of the thorns could get near its injured wing. She quickly backed away then, well aware of the fact that the horse’s bigger frame would have no trouble trampling her over if it felt like it, or even smash her against a tree just by spreading its huge wings.

With a movement of its healthy wing, it – or he? – shook off the now cut rope and examined its injury briefly, before bringing its flaming eyes back on her. Even though there was nothing benevolent in its gaze, it appeared to be studying her.

By now, Arturia was fully conscious of the fact that this was no ordinary animal. Wings aside, it could talk and seemed very familiar with humans, though there was clearly contempt in its behaviour towards them. Not that she could blame it: she would have had misgivings too, if she had been hunted and captured in such a barbaric way.

Before either of them could decide what to do, some voices reached their ears, thankfully from quite far away. They both realized at the same time that they were likely to belong to the soldiers that had decided to follow them.

 

“You should leave,” she hastily recommended, looking around apprehensively.

It gave her a glance filled with disdain and some petulance.

“I don’t hide from mongrels,” it protested. “Even if these are particularly disrespectful ones.”

“ _Armed_ ones,” she pointed out, slightly put out by its contempt. “It’s best if you go deeper into the forest.”

The look it gave her was remarkable for its arrogance.

“Do you really think I’m some foolish beast? You know as well as I do that deeper inside the forest I can’t fly.”

Setting aside the fact that it had somewhat recognized her intelligence in a _very_ roundabout way, she replied, “With your current wound, you can’t fly either way.”

Before it could give her more than an indignant glare, she went on, “Please let me be clear. I mean you no harm and I don’t like those soldiers myself. But if you stay here, you will be found and cornered. You have to leave.”

This time, she could clearly see its hesitation, but was surprised when its heavy gaze seemed to pause on her.

Suddenly it snapped, “Take some of my blood.”

She blinked.

“I– what…?”

“Take some of my blood and leave traces on those trees,” it ordered. There was an inexplicable authority in its tone now, and it was clear that it knew what it was doing. “I will _not_ lead those mongrels into the secret depths of the forest.”

Although her curiosity was definitely piqued, Arturia refrained from asking questions and did as it asked, as gently as possible and avoiding direct contact with its injury.

Once she was done in creating an acceptable trail of blood with the large quantity that had soaked her hands and dress, it nodded at her slightly condescendingly.

“Good. Now take off in that direction. And pretend to run fast and be out of breath.”

It retreated towards another side of the trees, not sparing her another glance, clearly considering their strange meeting to be over.

However, she didn’t agree.

“I’m afraid I will be coming with you,” she declared, nothing but firmness in her tone.

Even though it didn’t stop, the horse turned its head to look – or rather, glare – at her.

“Leave,” it growled darkly.

“I won’t,” she said plainly. “I doubt I would be able to find my way back from here, and those soldiers won’t be interested in helping me.” Her green eyes were fixated on the horse with a steely gaze. “And I would like to know what it is that you are trying to so hard to protect.”

The horse’s assured steps faltered for a moment at her words, but aside from a low, warning grumble, it didn’t say anything and proceeded to go deeper into the forest, not saying anything else as she followed it in silence.

 

After a while, when there was no sound coming from the soldiers anymore, it stopped and turned to face her. While still flashing dangerously at her, full of dark suspicion, its eyes were now slightly less guarded.

“Go back to your village, girl,” it growled again.

Arturia felt insulted – she was a grown woman, whether she looked like it or not – and somewhat annoyed. How rude could a talking horse even be? She eyed it again, wondering if it was actually a horse or maybe a Pegasus, considering its wings.

Perhaps things had just not started the right way though.

She took a deep breath.

“My name is Arturia. I had nothing to lose and nothing to gain by following you, even though I don’t have a rational explanation for it either.”

There was now some curiosity in her expression that she decided not to try to hide. “Who are you?”

She had not asked _what_ it was. Perhaps it was once again instinctually done, but it felt like the right question to ask.

The creature seemed to consider her words in earnest, but was still leaning towards brushing her off, at least until she suddenly realized that there were a lot of small animals in the trees around them. Squirrels, badgers, rabbits, birds, fawns and even a few grown deer were surrounding them, but they were abnormally quiet for woodland creatures. They kept themselves hidden, almost as if they were afraid to come out, as if they feared that some secret of theirs could be revealed.

The horse noticed both their presence and Arturia’s eyes on them, and therefore grunted, “Everyone, leave.”

Obeying its obvious command, all the animals started to disperse, even though they did give Arturia some long glances, mostly wary and curious, though none was hostile.

She suddenly understood.

“You are human.” Watching it intently, she took a shot in the dark that actually made complete sense. “And they are too,” she noted, indicating the animals that had just left, as she realized, “And you… are protecting them from the soldiers.”

The horse seemed to sigh at this, as if it was displeased that she had found out the truth but at the same time was offended that it had taken her so long to get there.

Even though that was perplexing to her, she didn’t add anything else, sensing that it was probably about to finally satisfy her curiosity.

“I assume you know of Ishtar’s name,” it stated, giving her an inquisitive glance, clearly still deciding how much to tell her.

Arturia gave a nod.

Queen Ishtar was the ruler of the land, and she wasn’t precisely a beloved one. She never deigned to make an appearance among the ‘commoners’, but they all felt the effects of her presence in the high taxes they had to pay. Arturia’s family had been hit hard as well, prompting her to take all kinds of odd jobs just to have enough money to bring food to the table.

It didn’t help that she was looked at with suspicion by most people in town, as she preferred using the sword instead of a needle, but she did not care, as long as she managed to provide for her family.

“She drains people with her taxes, with her insane requests for precious gems, and she demands all her desires to be satisfied,” the horse explained, as if it wasn’t obvious. “Those who can’t pay receive her personal punishment… you have probably heard that threat,” it added, studying her face. “She curses them, turning them into animals. I can offer my subjects a safe haven and protection, but it won’t solve the problem. The witch needs to be gone.”

Arturia tilted her head in slight confusion.

“Your subjects?”

The look it gave her was eloquent.

“She got the throne by putting a curse on me, though she only managed it by accident,” it almost hissed, immensely displeased at the admission, and pawed the earth with its hoof.

Her subsequent words only increased its aggravation.

“Oh, so you are the spoiled young Prince who mysteriously disappeared a year ago…” She searched her memory, ignoring the death glare it – now definitely a _he_ – bestowed on her. “Prince Gilgamesh, correct?”

“King,” he rectified, not making any attempt at hiding his annoyance.

Again she didn’t pay him too much attention, thinking quickly.

“Is there a way to dethrone Ishtar?”

He seemed almost resigned to the fact that she wouldn’t leave him alone until he told her everything.

“There is a Wand that would make her magic ineffective, at least long enough to take and break her staff, so to end all her curses,” he revealed, obviously having told this story many times before. “Now that the witch is focused on looking for me instead of tormenting the people, I can go find the Wand.”

Arturia understood what he was saying, but again, her words just blurted out.

“Let me come with you.”

 

At his disbelieving look – he obviously hadn’t expected her outburst – she insisted, “You will need a knight to protect you. I will help you get your rightful place back.”

His expression was as if he was raising an eyebrow. He obviously didn’t take her seriously, and proved it by saying dismissively, “Can you even swing a sword?”

She wasn’t fazed by his lack of faith in her abilities. She had learned needlework and ‘everything a lady ought to know’ from her mother, who had been aware of her daughter’s more athletic inclination but had wanted to help keep her out of trouble. Both she and her father had seen that she excelled in everything that men usually did, and therefore supported her secretly training together with some of the retired royal guards. They had asked her to keep up the ladylike façade so that she would not be ostracized in town, but they encouraged her to do what she was good at. Furthermore, her mother had emphasized how stitching was in the end extremely useful, especially when she had to close wounds.

Looking straight at him and not blinking, she answered, “Of course I can. I can also stitch a wound neatly, which I’m sure you need right now, because otherwise your wing will not heal and you won’t be able to fly.”

The Pegasus – Gilgamesh – shook his head, in quite the regal manner for being such a huge animal.

“I do not need your help,” he complained in his deep baritone.

“Yes, you do,” she contradicted him. “My family and I will soon be next if Ishtar isn’t stopped, and she has made more than enough people suffer. She needs to be gone. You may be a horse right now–… a _Pegasus_ ,” she quickly amended, seeing his dark look, “but you have shown that you care about your subjects, as you protect them at the risk of your own safety. That means that while I don’t know whether or not you are suited to be a good King, you are certainly better than Ishtar.”

She knew that that was a positively low bar, and Gilgamesh’s outraged expression clearly told her the same, but Arturia wasn’t done with her bold speech.

“Therefore, let me at least help with your injury. I am assuming that this Wand is not in the deep forest,” he didn’t confirm nor deny, but she formed her own conclusions based on that, “and I know all the villages and this part of the kingdom much better than you do.”

Her voice became gentler, though she knew it wouldn’t necessarily help her case. “Please let me help as much as I can.”

“No,” he said categorically, but it was enough to assure Artura that she would be able to make him give in.

It took her the better part of an hour to finally convince him to at least let her stitch his wound, and even longer after that to finally make him so exasperated that he agreed to let her come with him, even though he absolutely refused to call her his knight.

In the end, even though he very reluctantly accepted her presence, he still grumbled, “Very well then. You may come – but you are _not_ riding on my back.”

Arturia only grinned. They had a kingdom to save, and she was certain they would succeed, even if she had to spend the whole time bickering with the King about it.

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